


It's Not Just One Body Part -- Conclusion in 3 Takes

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Masturbation, Multi, Threesome, Voyeurism, f/f/m
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three possible ways that Tim's discovery of Tyra/Julie could conclude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Just One Body Part -- Conclusion in 3 Takes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shelbecat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Shelbecat), [elzed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elzed/gifts).



> Sequel to [It's Not Just One Body Part](http://archiveofourown.org/works/50163), which ended on something of a cliffhanger, and immediately I got "Well, what happened next?!" requests. The problem was, I could think of three possible outcomes, and since I couldn't decide which one I liked best, _I wrote them all_.
> 
> For my beta Shelbecat, and for Elzed who begged for me to write one chapter in particular

**TAKE ONE: Threesome**

They hang there, frozen for several moments, before Tyra moves, breaking the spell.

"Tim!" she shrieks, bounding off the bed.

Julie moves too, leaping off the bed, flailing for her clothes. She seizes them, hugs them to her, freezes.

(She feels like she's going to die from shame.)

Tyra hikes the blinds and bangs the window open. "_Tim!_" She's pissed.

"Tyra," he breathes, low, husky, barely audible over the sound of Julie's pulse hammering in her ears. Yet, the sound of it pulls Julie's gaze to him as she frantically tries to get her shirt right side out and get her bra back on at the same time. Her panties are going to be all sticky and nasty and completely gross by the time she gets home --

It's real now.

She cheated on Matt.

She got caught cheating on Matt. By _Tim. Riggins_. Drop dead sexy man-whore Tim Riggins.

(_Tim Riggins_ has seen her naked.)

She feels like she's going to vomit.

Julie's face flames even harder as her eyes flood with tears.

She thought she had this _thing_ with Tyra, and it was magical and beautiful, and now it's one of _those_ things. It's something cheap and tawdry and ... deceitful.

There. The bra's back on and the shirt gives a blessed moment of merciful darkness as it goes over her head, and when her face is through, she sees that Tim is climbing through Tyra's window.

(What is Tyra thinking?!)

"Tyra," Tim murmurs again, touching her face, voice thick, like it's an effort to speak, an effort to say that single word.

_He's shaking_.

"Tim," Tyra whispers, reaching up to cup his hand against her cheek, "I-I can't "

"_Please_." His voice is raspy, broken.

Tyra gives a heavy sigh. "Tim, you ... I can't --" But Julie can hear the weakness in Tyra's voice.

"I need. You've -- _please._"

(_Tim Riggins is BEGGING_!!)

Julie finds that she is locked in place, like a statue, panties clutched in hand, one knee on the bed for balance, as she watches this ... drama ... play out before her. She scarcely dares breathe.

Because ... Tyra's talked to her before about Tim. About how she's known him for years. About how dating him was a mistake because she was waiting for who she really wanted to sit up and notice  she's never told Julie _who_ though. That things are better between her and Tim now that they're just friends. And not "friends with privileges". Just. Friends.

Only, right now, Tim's ~~asking~~ pleading for privileges.

Suddenly he ducks in, kissing Tyra wetly.

Julie sees the shift in Tyra's posture. She's giving in. Only ... not. Julie wonders if they're still aware of her. She does not move, hardly breathes.

"You have to _promise_, Tim," Tyra hisses. "If I say yes, you can't tell anybody. _Anybody_."

Tim flinches at that and hurt creeps in around the edges of his expression. "I wasn't -- I won't -- I would never -- I'm not asking like that. You ... you don't have to, Tyra. I wouldn't tell anyway. It's just the two of you were ... you were so ..." his voice trails off, and Julie realizes it's the most she's ever heard him say all at once.

"I don't have to?" Tyra's skeptical.

He gives a small smile and shakes his head. "No. Really. Just  please."

Tyra sighs, and Julie can tell it's a sigh of yes.

"And I guess I should be going," Julie mumbles, sticking her legs into her jeans and pulling them up. It's going to be a long walk home.

Tyra's expression shifts and her voice goes almost cold. "No. Stay." To Tim she says, "I'll get you off, but I'm not having sex with you. So you'll get your two women fantasy, just not the way you thought."

"Tyra, it's not like --" Tim's arms are wide in protest.

Tyra cuts him off by placing a hand in the middle of his chest and backing him towards the chair by her dresser. He drops into it with a thump, his eyes flicking from Tyra to Julie, as turned on as he is baffled.

Lust wins when Tyra kneels behind and slightly to the side. "Watch and learn, Julie." Her voice is mercenary.

"Tyra?" Tim's nervous.

Her hands pause in reaching around. "Shut up. Do you want this or not?"

Tim nods yes.

"Then shut up."

Tim closes his eyes as Tyra pulls the edge of his shirt up; his hips lift as she unbuttons and unzips, then slides his jeans and wash-gray -- jockeys so different from her dad's proper boxers -- down to mid thigh. Julie bites down on her fist to stifle a hysterical giggle as she sees Tim's dick, hard and purply-red, rising from a thatch of hair that's almost reddish. _The carpet doesn't match the drapes_ she thinks with a laugh.

Julie's never seen a real live stiff penis before. She's certainly felt one as Matt presses against her during their makeout sessions, but ...

It's not quite what she thought it would be. Less ... elegant.

(It's so red, almost like it's angry, and it's sort of sticky looking, too.)

Tim shudders and makes a sound that's half groan, half deeply relieved sigh as Tyra's hand, coated in Jergens, begins to glide up and down.

On one level, it's all so ... stupid looking. And the sounds that Tyra's lotion-slick hand makes are kind of strange, as are the goofy strangled noises coming from Tim. But Julie _can't_ pull her eyes away from it, this slow jacking of Tim's cock, the sight of Tyra's hand gliding up and down, gradually picking up speed. Tim's hands clench around the back chair legs and his hips jitter and the muscles in his lower belly spasm in time with the strokes of Tyra's hand. His mouth hangs slightly slack and his breath now comes in long shuddery bursts.

Tyra's hand blurs as it suddenly gets much faster and Tim groans and _flexes_ against the chair, causing it to creak alarmingly. He's going to come any second now. Julie has no idea how she knows this. She just does. Something pulls her closer. Her eyes lock with Tyra's as she kneels in front of Tim. Tyra's eyes flick down and over, granting her permission.

Tentatively, Julie reaches out, ghosting her fingers high up on Tim's inner thigh -- the muscles there shiver-flutter beneath her fingers -- and he makes a strange little "huh?" noise.

Bolder now, Julie touches the base of _it_ with her index finger. It's hot, surprisingly so, and she can feel the tension there, it's like --

Tim's eyes snap open, blazing, burning into her. "Ju-Julie! I d-don't --" but the rest is bitten off as his entire body _clenches_ and releases all that coiled tension. He's coming, and it's ... amazing. Nothing she's ever read in biology class has come close to explaining what it looks like. It just spurts out in three sudden bursts and lands on his rippling, heaving stomach, and _he can't do anything else_, just ride along with it, and then fall back as his eyes roll up in his head and he gasps like he almost just drowned.

A moment later, Tyra presses some kleenexes into his hand and he hastily swipes at the white goo, wads up the tissues, and all but hurtles them into the trash as he stands and hikes up his jeans.

He's _pissed_. And Julie has no idea why. She looks helplessly at Tyra who just shrugs back.

"Tim?" Tyra finally asks.

He whirls on them, eyes molten with rage. "You and me?" he snarls at Tyra, "that's one thing. You and her --" his eyes flick over to Julie "that's another. But me and her?" He points at Julie then sighs angrily and crosses his arms. "I ain't -- I'm _not_ going there. I didn't want to go there." He draws in a shaky breath, holds it a beat, and blows it out. "Not again. Not ever again."

_Shit_.

"I ... I didn't mean " Julie begins

"But you did!" Tim snaps, then throws his arms up in the air. "You fucking did. This isn't -- God! There's no way I can explain what. Fuck it. I'm not going to say anything to anyone. I can't. Do me a favor, though. When Matt finds out about you two, don't even breathe my name, because -- nobody's going to believe that I didn't -- Oh, fuck it! I'm leaving." He storms out the door and down the hall, slamming the front door on his way out.

Julie feels like she might be sick all over again.

Less than 15 minutes ago, she felt so happy she thought she might burst. Tyra looks at her and Julie sees the same thing in her eyes, and Julie has to blink back the tears because of it.

(_So much more than one body part going into another if it can do this to you  moments after you felt like Queen of the World._)

Tyra turns her back to Julie and starts dressing. She's buttoning her jeans when she says, low and husky, "Tim means it when he says he's not going to say anything. Really."

Woodenly, Julie nods, even though a part of her knows that Tyra can't see her.

Tyra ends up driving her home. Neither of them says a word.

~oo(0)oo~

Tyra doesn't avoid her the next day at school. There's just this unspoken agreement that they'll never do anything alone together again, and of course, never never never mention it, and they'll just pretend the whole thing didn't happen.

Tim gives both of them the barest of looks. There's anger in his gaze, low and banked. Then again, Tim's got a lot to be angry about, and he and Tyra have always had a stormy relationship, so nobody's going really going to notice anything different.

Julie finds a 3x5 index card in her locker. On the blank side is a delicate and beautiful sketch of a sparrow perched on a twig.

Matt.

Her heart melts with love.

Julie decides then and there that instead of getting pissed at Matt for being so fumbly, she'll try to let him know what's good and what isn't. After all, it's not like Matt's got one of his own to practice on. And she'll ask Matt to tell her what he likes. It might be that dicks only _look_ less complicated.

Yes, it is a hell of a lot more than one body part going into another, and -- now that Julie knows that, really truly knows that -- she's dying to know what it can be like with Matt.

*****

**TAKE TWO: DIY**

Tim stands frozen in shock for a split second after Tyra and Julie both look at him and gasp, and then his legs start working again and run.

(Because he can't unsee what he just saw, and there's not anything he can say to them that won't be stupid, and Tyra knows that he won't tell anyone, that he knows how to keep his mouth shut.)

It's hard to run with what feels like a Louisville Slugger between his legs, but Tim races down the side yard, hops the gate, gets in the truck, starts it, and roars away before Tyra can manage to get it together enough to yell at him from the front door.

He doesn't make it far, just down the street and around the corner to a vacant lot -- thank God Tyra lives on the edge of town where houses are fewer and farther between -- before he pulls over because he has _got_ to have some relief.

Because Tyra and Julie? _Hottest fucking thing he's ever seen._

Not just because Tyra's hot, or that Julie's hot, or that girl-on-girl is hot just on general principles.

It was the looks on their faces.

He whips the truck into neutral and skids to stop and scrambles frantically with his jeans -- of all the fucking days to wear a belt!

He shudders slightly as he takes himself in hand. He's leaking so much there's no need for spit.

It wasn't like the girl-on-girl porn he's seen, where they play to the camera. Tyra and Julie were so focused on each other that nothing else existed but each other and what they were feeling.

And -- _ohhh!_ \-- the looks on their faces when they came? It was Christmas and birthdays and _everything_ that only a really good orgasm is.

He hisses as he shuts his eyes and glides his hand up. It's the most wonderful, beautiful thing he's ever seen. Really.

Tim holds that moment in his mind and gets in about five good, hard, strokes before he _explodes_ all over his hand.

Gasping and shaking, he lolls his head against the glass for several seconds before he draws in a few deep breaths and looks at the gook in his hand and looks frantically around for something, but of course, there's nothing  that's what he gets for having cleaned out his truck the other day. With a sigh, he wipes it on his shirt tail, turns the truck back on, and yeah, now he's got to drive home with a kind of sticky crotch and a kind of sticky hand, and God, he hopes Billy's not there yet.

At his first red light, a snapshot of the two of them flashes behind his eyes and immediately things are reloaded and ready to go.

Shit.

Then he remembers there's a lot with a burnt out building behind the feed and tack store ahead on the right.

*****

**TAKE THREE: Voyeur**

Tim's standing there at the window, and Julie's scrambling for her clothes, and Tyra walks over and lets him in.

(_Fuck!_)

Julie can hear him begging and pleading as she fights with her bra, because she's got to get out of this room, get away from them as soon as possible, and then she hears Tyra make Tim promise that he won't tell anybody, ever, and Julie's heart lurches in that that split second before she hears him reply, "I won't."

"And I'll just ..." Julie mumbles, talking mostly for herself, words tumbling out of her mouth as she swiftly hikes her panties into place, snatches up the rest of her clothes and dashes for the bathroom across the hall.

She's crying now and she's not quite sure why as she wets a washcloth and wipes at the sticky wetness between her legs.

When she finishes putting her clothes on, she finger-combs the tangles from her hair, and uses a kleenex to blot the worst of the damage from her face. Sucking in a deep breath, she piffs! air up through her bangs and thinks that this is one hell of a situation she just landed herself in. Tyra's her ride home. She could walk, but it's about six miles, and there's not really a good way to let Tyra know that she's going, and maybe she could call Landry from a payphone at the first store, but ... that would just lead to too many questions. Same with calling Mom or Dad.

Nothing in her life has ever prepared Julie for dealing with a situation like this, much less extricating herself from it. She counts to three and decides that she'll slip out the bathroom, and go into the farthest corner of the living room and just wait until it 

_Oh..._

She didn't close Tyra's bedroom door all the way. It's open about three inches.

She can see them.

Julie knows she should just keep tiptoeing on down the hall in to the living room, and then turn on the TV and wait it out.

But Tim gives this breathy, _incredibly relieved_ sounding, "Ohhh, Tyra," and like that, Julie's feet are welded to the floor.

She's standing about eight inches back from the door, so she's pretty sure that they really can't see her, given that the hall is dark and shadowy.

This is a huge violation of privacy, and Julie knows that if Tyra and Tim see her watching, they'll be pissed. But maybe this is how Tim ended up looking in the window, wanting to turn away, _knowing_ that he should turn and leave, but seeing something so intensely hot that he just couldn't make himself do it.

It's not like Julie hasn't seen pictures -- some of them biological, some of them pornish -- of people fucking. But to see it, for real?! Unrehearsed, unscripted, unfiltered by the lens of science or industry? It's ....

She can't see Tyra's face, but she can see Tim's, and it's the expression on his face that draws her in.

Right now, love her or not, there is _nothing else_ in Tim Riggins's world except what he and Tyra are doing, and Julie begins to understand how ... sex is a tool. It's not that she's never seen how people use sex to get what they want from others, but this? Julie's pretty sure that this is partly about Tim trying to plug some sort of emotional hole ... that it's like red-velvet cupcakes or mac-n-cheese, comfort food, but to the Nth power. It's the noises he's making, and the expression on his (eyes closed) face one that's hunger and desperation and a bone deep sigh of satisfaction all rolled up in one.

Its the most _naked_ thing Julie's ever seen. It makes her need and throb and shift on her feet.

Tim comes with groan that Julie swears she can feel as much as hear. It's her cue. She's down the hall and into the front room and hopefully they're none the wiser.

She sinks to the couch and buries her hands in her face and shakes a little as she attempts to put everything into place.

"It's just one body part going into another." God, she was so stupid and ignorant. Because it's not that, but it's not always beautiful and sacred, either. Sometimes it's _this_ what her mother was trying to warn her about.

Tyra comes down the hall about 20 minutes later and says that Tim's sound asleep, like a typical guy, and that she'll give Julie a ride home.

Julie nods and opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it just as quickly, because she knows that if she tries to ask how Tyra could do what she just did, that she wouldn't ask it, she'd scream it, and ... that would just make things worse.

They don't say anything about what happened on the ride home.

Or the next day.

Or ever.

~~(And Julie's fine with that.)~~


End file.
